Wake Me Up
by The Nutty One
Summary: For a month Klaus has had the same dream. A dream of a man on the forest floor, shrouded by black covers. Believing that his dreams are a result of his father's abuse, Klaus follows the path they are taking him on. What he does not know, is that he will meet his soul mate, one of the rarest and most divine creatures on Earth. Klaus/Damon. Angel Damon.
1. Prologue

The dream had been plaguing him for the past month. Every night it was the same dream, the same dream that revealed nothing but seemed to become entangled within his every thought. Even through the day he found himself thinking about the dream, of the figure on the forest floor, just past Wickery Bridge, its skin pale in the moonlight and body shrouded by thick black covers. His mind would allow him to see no more. In every dream he would take one step, one step too close to the figure and then he would wake - heart pounding and breathing erratic - to a darkened room.

That night had been no different.

Only this time, he had refused to fall back into a restless sleep, filled with the noise of rushing water, the rustle of leaves the mysterious figure who lay on the forest floor. He had stalked around the room, collecting anything that he thought was necessary.

Tonight, the mystery would end. He would prove to himself that the dream was only a dream: a disruption caused by the residual hauntings that his abusive father had left upon his mind. It had to be that. Never before had anything caused him such turmoil. He had to prove to himself that it wasn't real.

As he left the manor, the wind howled around him as if laughing at the fact that he had given in. He had allowed his mind to win. Tree branches beat at the glass and the leaves scurried away from him before his feet ended their journey with a crunch. Shadows lurked in the forest, playing tricks on his supernatural eyes in the same way the dream had toyed with his mind.

He paid them no heed.

He had seen the exact location of the figure over a hundred times. His feet followed an unbeaten track that he had never walked before. He doubted anyone had. Long grass grasped at the fabric of his jeans and startled animals fled as he neared them. Determination thundered through him. Today, he would put an end to the restlessness of his mind and he would be at peace again.

In his millennia on this earth, nothing had frustrated him as much as this had. He had a need to know things, to make sure that it wasn't a threat to his reign. The fact that his dream wouldn't allow him to get closer was making him growl in frustration. Was the figure a threat? A sign from someone more powerful? He couldn't ignore the persistence of his dream. Ignoring things had made him vulnerable to his father's abuse. Centuries ago he had sworn he would never be so weak again. He wouldn't allow it.

His footsteps echoed over the sound of the bridge, each one a dull thud that rang through his ears, a sign that he would at last be putting his mind to rest. Water rushed beneath the old wood, cascading over rocks and through deeper pools before finally disappearing into the darkening forest. Normally, at this point of the dream, he would allow himself to contemplate what he was doing and whether he was willing to risk everything to find something that could be stronger than him, and that could potentially - if given the correct knowledge - end his existence on this earth. He didn't do that this time. Upon leaving his manor it had been decided that he would follow this through. No matter what the consequences were.

As the darkness continued to descend, he had never been so grateful for the keen eyesight his supernatural abilities offered him. No creature would be able creep upon him or take him by surprise.

Further a head, he saw a break in the trees. Moonlight filtered through the thinner canopy of leaves, barely touching the short grass. He felt a pull in his body, so he allowed himself to follow it. Part of his mind warned that it could be the work of a witch, but he pushed the cautious side away. Doubts would do him no good. If this was a threat, then it would be able to sense things like that. It would be able to see that his mind was weak.

He strode towards the clearing with more purpose, the pulling his his chest becoming stronger with every step he took. Before his eyes could make anything out, he noticed the sound of a heartbeat. It wasn't slow enough to be vampire and it didn't match the pace of a humans. It was fast, but not quick enough to match the sound of a werewolf. It was faster than that. Fluttering at such a rate it was hard to distinguish one beat from the next.

He didn't pause to think any more. He had to know. Normally, at this point his dream would end abruptly and he could go no further. He didn't even think of that. He walked forward, noting the details of the figure as he went.

It had short dark hair, ruffled with the wind and resting in small black curls at the nape of its neck. It was laid on its side, allowing him to view the side of its face. Of_ his_ face. Like his dream, the male's face was pale and alabaster - contrasting sharply with the dark colour of his hair. His eyes were shut, hiding their colour from him. He imagined that they would be as startling as the rest of him. His shoulders were broad and muscular but it wasn't that that had caught Klaus immediate attention.

The black coverage, which he had thought to be blankets, were feathers. Deep black feathers. Now he was closer, he could see that each was finely crafted and delicate. Not a single one was out of place. They rested along his back and covered the majority of his body. Together they created thick, luscious wings that came from open slits in the male's back. Blood oozed from the open wounds, creating tiny streams that gleamed in the moonlight.

An Angel, Klaus thought, as he neared the male.

His thoughts had been plagued an Angel.


	2. Chapter 1

Klaus approached the Angel warily. He had yet to meet one, but he had heard tales about them. They were rare beautiful and divine creatures, who had one destined mate who they searched for endlessly. They only exposed themselves when necessary, preferring solitude or being around their own kind. Which meant that there were either others around, or this one had fallen prey to some other being.

He looked around himself, studying the shadows that danced around the trees. He should leave the Angel here. Let whatever was coming after it, take it and save his own life. But he found he couldn't. One look at the Angel's face made his cold, lifeless heart clench. It had been so long since he'd felt emotion that it felt foreign and he wasn't sure whether he liked it or not. All he knew, was that it would be a weakness. If he felt anything towards this Angel, it could be used against him.

With that thought it mind, Klaus took a step away from the Angel, intending to leave it in the clearing and let fate take over. As he did, Klaus saw the Angel's wings quiver in the wing and unconsciously wrap tighter around its body. A survival mechanism. It was cold. It mustn't have the same survival traits that vampires had against the weather. He stood and watched the male shiver as the wind got colder and the leaves clung to his delicate wings.

He couldn't leave it like that.

He could take it back to the manor and study it. Knowing more about its species could help him in the future if he was threatened by them. Klaus frowned at that thought. He doubted he'd be threatened much by them. The tales that he had heard told that they were peaceful creatures who would rather run than fight. But he couldn't leave it out here. If the tales were right then it wouldn't be able to threaten him much more than a human would...

His mind made up, Klaus picked the Angel up from the forest floor being careful not to touch its wings. Its skin felt cold against his. A small trickle of emotion ran through his chest. Unworthiness. One of not being able to provide. He pushed the feelings down. He hadn't felt anything like them in centuries, so why was he feeling them now? Even though Klaus' skin was naturally cold to touch, he found that the Angel curled closer to him, its head resting against his chest. He looked down at it, noticing long lashes and a chiseled jaw. The Angel's eyes moved beneath his eyelids, so it was clearly fighting to wake. Somewhere in its unconscious mind, it was clearly aware that it had been disturbed.

Klaus hastily made his way back to the manor. He didn't want to Angel to wake in his arms in case its reaction to him wasn't pleasant. He frowned at that thought. Never had he cared about others opinions of him. Normally he would delight in the fact that someone was scared of him. But this Angel - whose name he didn't know, had changed all of that. He shook his head to clear his thoughts. He was thinking too much. The dream had been solved and now he was left with this: emotions he hadn't felt in centuries.

When he reached the manor, Klaus took the Angel down to the basement. He wanted it to be secure until he knew more about its species and what threat it could potentially be. He placed in on the stone floor, grimacing as it started shivering again. Closing the door behind it, he gathered blankets and a fold out bed. He'd never done this for a prisoner before. Usually they were left in the basement to rot, or to mummify if the victim were a vampire.

Klaus set up the fold out bed quickly, draping blankets over it to make it more comfortable. He lifted the Angel again, careful not to touch its wings, and placed it in the bed. It immediately curled up in the blankets. One hand clenched tightly to the corner of the blanket which its wings appeared to shudder in pleasure at the warmth the blankets gave.

He watched it for a few moments as its breathing slowed to a deep sleep. It wouldn't wake for a while. Klaus made sure it was comfortable before closing the heavy wooden door and latching the bolts in place. He turned his back on the Angel and made his way through the manor to the library.

The musky smell of old books enveloped him as he moved through the maze of bookshelves. Many of the books were faded with age, their spines dulled and worn. It had been years since Klaus had used the library for anything other than casual reading. He had thought he'd known everything about all the supernatural creatures, especially their weaknesses. But the Angel made his lack of knowledge stand out.

He flicked through some of the books, coming up empty handed until he finally found one that looked promising. He wiped the dust from its cover and quickly scanned the pages. It had a small section dedicated to the Angel species and Klaus returned to the basement with the book in his hand. Taking a seat on the sandbags which lined the room, he decided to wait for the Angel to wake.

While he waited, he read the section on Angels. There was a simple hand drawn image on the first page. It was a female Angel but its wings were the same as Damon's, only grey instead of black. The book was in Latin, which he easily translated as he read.

The human that had written the book detailed the species quite clearly, stating very early on that he had been the mate of an Angel, specifically the women in the picture. Klaus narrowed his eyes at that. Why would an Angel go for something so lowly as a human when it could have a stronger, equally supernatural mate?

Like he already knew, the book detailed that they were peaceful creatures, preferring to run instead of fight. The human had detailed his first encounter with the Angel, how she hadn't believed him to be the mate she was destined to and for weeks had refused to have any contact with him. Instead withdrawing into herself to the point of becoming ill. Klaus risked a glance at the Angel, thankful that his breathing was still deep.

He continued to read, taking mental notes as he read. They preferred nature to cold stone places. At that, Klaus had looked around the basement with a frown, only to decide that it was needed if he was to keep the Angel secure. They each had a unique, uncontrollable gift that occurred when their emotions were high. The human had written that his Angel had been able to heal people when in a positive mood, and easily kill when in a negative mood. Once again, Klaus looked warily over to the Angel. Thankfully they didn't have any unusual feeding habits. Klaus would just have to go shopping if he wished to maintain a somewhat happy house guest.

A rustling sound cause him to place the book down on the sand bags and glance towards the Angel. Its wings had become trapped in the blankets and it appeared in great distress that it couldn't get them free. Klaus moved over silently, gently pulling the blankets from the Angel's wings. But in this moment, his hand touched the Angel's wing. Its feathers were like the finest velvet and silk, so soft to touch that it made Klaus reach his hand out again.

Snatching back his hand, he watched as the Angel's eyes flickered and then opened fully to reveal startling blue eyes. Klaus stared, amazed at such a colour. The Angel was beautiful. All pale skin, dark hair and blue eyes. Once more his hand reached out to touch the Angel, as if to make sure it was real. But as he did, the Angel scrambled from the bed, tripping over blankets in his haste before stumbling to the far wall.

Its breathing was erratic and it looked at Klaus with large startled blue eyes that watched his every movement. The Angel's naked chest heaved with every breath and behind him his black wings spread out and quivered, showing his distress at the situation he was in. His blue eyes flickered around the basement, lasting longest on the door before moving back to Klaus. The Angel's body shook and he looked again at the door for escape.

Klaus took a small step forward, his hand outstretched to calm the Angel. He stopped when he saw the Angel shaking its head and pressing itself further against the rough bricks of the basement. He frowned as he noticed his own caring attitude towards the Angel. Klaus shook the feeling off, instead reaching for the blanket that the Angel had been holding tightly while it slept.

The Angel looked at the blanket in confusion, its blue eyes filled with worry. Only then did the Angel appear to notice its nudity and it grabbed the blanket from Klaus before holding it around its waist. The blanket acted as a token of trust. The Angel's breathing slowed down though he still looked towards the door.

"Can you speak?" Klaus asked. Which ever language it spoke wouldn't be a problem.

The Angel cocked its head to the side, its eyes narrowing slightly. For a moment Klaus wondered if the Angel spoke any language at all before it opened its mouth slowly. And then it shut it again, and worried its bottom lip with its teeth. Klaus watched as the pink colour disappeared from his lip, only to reappear as the Angel stopped nibbling it. To answer his question, the Angel nodded in Klaus direction.

Klaus had to refrain himself from rolling his eyes. Nodding hadn't really answered his question had it? He stayed where he was, and this time, asked; "What's your name?"

The Angel's eyes widened at Klaus question. He looked to the door once more before his shoulders slumped as he saw that there was no escape. "Damon," he answered quietly.

A sudden heat flooded through Klaus at the sound of Damon's voice. It was like nothing he'd ever heard before. So softly spoken, Klaus could only watch and hope what he was hearing was true. "Damon," Klaus repeated, as if to feel the words roll off his tongue. "I'm Klaus," he said slowly, part of him hoping he wouldn't scare Damon any further.

He didn't understand this sudden need to be careful around the Angel. Every time Damon looked towards the door Klaus would feel a trickle of unfamiliar emotion, the same one he'd felt before. A feeling of being unworthy, as if he couldn't provide.

When he looked back towards Damon he saw that the Angel had turned to the side, one pale hand resting lightly on the rough brick work. Damon's fingers trembled slightly as they traced over the wall. The Angel shut his eyes tightly before turning back to Klaus.

"Where am I?" Damon asked but he wouldn't look at Klaus.

"Mystic Falls," Klaus replied. He took a step towards Damon while the Angel appeared distracted by his thoughts. "I found you in the forest."

If it surprised Damon, then he didn't show it. He nodded his head slowly - too calm for Klaus' liking. "How did you know I was there?"

"Dreams," Klaus smirked at himself. Before he hadn't admitted it to anyone. No one knew how he thought his mind was turning on him. And now he had just admitted it to a stranger, and a beautiful one at that. "For the past month I would dream about you, each and every night. So I followed them, and I found you."

Damon's blue eyes widened and the shivers that had abated returned in full force. "No," he whispered, his eyes wide with shock. The Angel shook his head slowly, once again moving backwards to create more distance. "It can't be you..." His knuckles turned white as he held the towel tighter around his waist. Those huge yet delicate wings trembled, once again showing his distress. "It can't be you."

Klaus frowned at the Angel's words, having to strain to hear the almost inaudible mutterings. He kept quiet. From what he'd seen, Damon was fragile and being moved to an unknown location was already making him distressed. Klaus didn't know how much more the Angel could take. "What am I to you?"

He froze at Klaus' words, his own mutterings coming to an abrupt halt. A dull acceptance came to Damon's eyes. "You're not going to let me go, are you?" Damon's wings appeared to curl around his body, hiding the majority of him from Klaus' view. "Please let me go, I don't belong here." Even though he was covered by his wings, Klaus could make out the desperation in his voice.

Anger blossomed within Klaus. Not only had Damon refused to answer his question, but he was attempting to leave too. He snarled lowly, feeling his fangs extend. Even the sound of Damon's gasp did nothing to prevent the anger that coursed through him. When Damon desperately looked towards the door once more, Klaus stalked forwards, appearing in front of the startled Angel within seconds. His hands came out to pry Damon's wings apart so he could see face.

His hands gripped the ridge at the top of Damon's wings and he pried them open causing Damon to cry out in pain. They quivered beneath his touch, each feather seeming to coil in on itself to avoid his punishing hands. A substance stained his hands but he didn't look. Couldn't look or he knew he would stop. Instead he looked through the abundance of feathers as he pulled Damon's wings apart, desperate to see the eyes of the figure that had haunted him all those weeks.

Damon's eyes were clenched shut in pain and his mouth was open as he screamed in silence. His breathing was close to hyperventilating and his once pale skin was now red with pain. Cool, slim hands came to rest on Klaus' forearms as he tried to push him away. He was no stronger than a human. At his touch, a strange tingling sensation ran through Klaus' body. Heat pooled in his stomach but he fought to ignore it.

Outside a sudden strike of thunder made Damon flinch further. It came faster and faster, each clap sounding deafening to Klaus' oversensitive ears. Every time Damon's hands clenched around Klaus' arms lightening would strike the ground, causing even the basement floor to shake beneath their feet. Choked whimpers and groans of pain came from Damon's open mouth as Klaus finally pried his wings apart.

Blue eyes swimming with tears looked weakly at Klaus.

"Answer me!" Klaus snarled, his fangs extended and his eyes golden as Damon flinched and shook uncontrollably. "What am I to you? What are you hiding?"

He shook Damon's body once again.

"I can't tell you!" Damon cried out, his head hanging low and his wings drooping. "I can't tell you. You'll use it against me!" The tears that had been threatening to spill finally flowed over. Red tears stained Damon's cheeks and Klaus stared back at him in horror.

"Blood! For tears!" He would have laughed in Damon's face if it hadn't been for the overwhelming scent coming from the fresh blood. It was like nothing he had ever smelt before. So divine and beautiful. Otherworldly. It wrapped around him, making his brain foggy and without even realizing, he sunk his teeth into Damon's neck.

The Angel tensed at the pain, his body becoming rigid against Klaus'. His hands now scrambled against Klaus' arms; short fingernails creating scratches that healed instantly. Against his face, Klaus could feel every exhale of breathe that Damon expelled. Outside, the lightening stuck the ground with a bang and the thunder continued to clap.

Damon's blood was extraordinary. A divine taste which tingled his taste buds and left him wanting more. He allowed his teeth to tear at Damon's neck, ripping the skin like a knife through butter. Every thought had fled his mind. The only thing left was a need to possess and a need to dominate this creature before him.

Damon would be his.


	3. Chapter 2

Klaus felt Damon's body begin to lean heavily upon his own. The Angel's breathing had slowed considerably and was now shallow and labored. He removed his hands from Damon's wings, barely noticing the blood which stained them. Instead, he used them to hold Damon to him while he extracted his fangs and licked the last few drops of elixir from his lips.

He removed Damon's weak hold on his arms and moved away from the Angel, watching in horror as Damon's legs buckled and his body slid down the wall.

His violent mood had passed, sated by his recent feed. And now all he felt was disgust at himself.

Bloody tears stained Damon's cheeks and his wings hung limply by his side. His eyes were open but he looked anywhere but at Klaus. No noise left him other than the harsh sound of his breathing as he fought for breath. When he couldn't look anywhere else, Klaus finally looked at the damage to Damon's neck.

Deep lacerations marred his beautiful alabaster skin and blood still continued to ooze from the wound, albeit at a slower rate than Klaus had expected. The muscles beneath the open wound were torn, now contracting weakly as Damon swallowed and struggled to breathe. Klaus's view of the wound was blocked when Damon gingerly pressed his hand to it. Damon flinched as he felt it and Klaus saw him swallow thickly. When he saw the blood on his hand, Klaus saw his hand tremble.

All Klaus felt was self-hatred. It was an emotion he'd never felt before and he already loathed it. Every time he looked at the ribbons of blood trickling down Damon's pale throat he was reminded of the savage attack. Every little detail flashed through his mind. He had been provoke by nothing. His temper, his father's temper, was the cause of this. At the thought of his father, Klaus could feel his rage rising again. Such an innocent creature, one that he had saved from near certain death in the woods had nearly been killed by his own hands. He didn't understand where his emotions were coming from. He had killed in cold blood before; murdered Katherine's entire family just for revenge. Killing was a sport to him. Killing the Angel shouldn't have caused him to have such a reaction.

He risked another glance towards Damon. The Angel's breathing was more regular though the wound was still open. Making a decision, Klaus tore open his own wrist. Blood welled within the bite marks, quickly spilling over and splattering onto the floor.

Hearing the splattering on the floor, Damon raised his head slowly. He watched Klaus with transfixed eyes, his head shaking from side to side with fear. "No...no!" he said weakly, attempting to move his legs so he could stand. Weak from blood loss, Damon only managed to shuffle along the floor. "Please, no! I don't want to be like you!" He tried to move again as the blood splattered on the cold stone floor.

"My blood will heal you," Klaus explained as he crouched down in front of the Angel. When Damon made no move to answer him, Klaus moved his wrist towards Damon's face. "Take some, please," he added. "It's the least I can do."

Damon shook his head slowly, as if scared he would anger Klaus again. "Please, let me go," he whispered again. His voice was raw with emotion and from the attack. "I can look after myself, just let me go." He tensed as if Klaus was going to strike him.

Klaus winced as he heard Damon's words. He should let him go. It would be for the best. When he thought of that, the pulling in his chest started again and a brief pain shot through his heart. He wouldn't be able to release Damon. Not yet. Not without knowing why he was feeling new emotions and the pain he felt when he thought of leaving the Angel.

"I can't. I can't let you go." He moved away from Damon, the lure of his blood too strong. He saw Damon's head come forward so his chin rested on his chest, the rest of his energy sapping away. Klaus couldn't look anymore.

The basement door shut with a bang.

**Wake Me Up**

For days Klaus refused to visit Damon. Instead he sat in the library for hours with nothing but a glass of scotch in his hand. In front of him the fire continued to crackle and climb over the logs in the fireplace. The book about Angels sat unread on the table beside him, as if mocking him, a constant reminder of his lack of constraint. He raised the glass to his lips, the liquid doing nothing to quench his thirst.

Images continued to flash through his mind. Cerulean blue eyes, filled with fear and horror continued to haunt his every moment. The heat of Damon's hands on his cold skin as he attempted to push him away and the feel of his erratic breathing on his cheek, becoming shallower with every bite Klaus took. Klaus could still feel Damon's tense body against his own, rigid with terror...

His hand clenched around the glass causing splinters to crack up its sides.

Such a lack of restraint. All over one being. One beautiful being and his divine blood. Klaus could hear his father's voice in his mind, a repeating echo of the past. Mocking him and tormenting him, beating him for his mother's mistakes. Always stating that Klaus was unworthy of anything: of power, wealth and love. Klaus would always lack restraint, his temper a curse of his werewolf genes. And his father never failed to remind him of it. Reduced to nothing but a "boy" every day.

The glass in his hand finally shattered. Scotch stung the cuts on his hand for a fraction of a second before they healed to scars and then to nothing. But the blood stayed. It dyed his hand red, the tiny droplets of liquid smearing over his skin in a gruesome pattern. Once more, all he could see was the wound on Damon's neck; torn open by the one who was supposed to protect him. Blood tears had trickled down his cheeks, beautiful in every way. So different to the blood of murder which stained Klaus' hands on a regular basis. The blood of an Angel which had covered is hands only days previously.

Damon would have been better off dead. Better off left in the clearing on his own to fight the elements and what ever was coming for him. He would have stood a better chance at survival. In the room directly below him, was the being that plagued his mind. Not even the crackling sound of the fire could drown out his weak, sluggish heart beat as his heart fought to pump blood around his body. Klaus tensed in his seat. Damon's heartbeat was too slow, it had been stronger in the forest. It was slowing, too slow, and Klaus shut his eyes in wait of the last beat, the last breath of the creature he held captive.

Instead, before he could let that happen, Klaus was up from his seat. Within seconds he was at the basement door, hand already pulling back the bolts on the outside. He strode in, flicking the lights on as he went only for Damon to weakly open his eyes and shut them again when he saw Klaus. Fear and pain filled them.

Klaus tried to ignore the gaunt look to Damon's features and the way his skin now looked sickly instead of ethereal. Damon's entire body shook with the cold, the only blanket covering his lower half from Klaus' gaze. His face was stained with his own tears and defeat showed in his slumped shoulders and limp wings.

The smell of the Angel's blood still filled the basement making Klaus' fangs elongate and the veins around his eyes show in blood lust. He looked away, willing himself to have restraint - to not injure Damon further. When Damon's breathing began to slow once more, Klaus looked over to him, noting how his pallor was sickly and yellow. With shaking hands, he went to Damon and picked his limp body from the cold stone floor. Weakly Damon struggled, his wings attempting to flutter lightly before falling to his sides. His eyes opened slightly, just showing a hint of blue, before they shut fully and he became unconscious in Klaus' arms.

Placing Damon on the bed, Klaus moved the blankets around him, leaving just enough room for Klaus to sit beside him. He ran his hand through Damon's hair, gently untangling the knots and removing the leaves that had been stuck there from the forest. He allowed himself to venture near Damon's wings, the delicate nature of them seeming to call to him. When his hand touched them, the wings quivered but appeared to move towards his touch. Each feather was finely pointed and felt like the softest silk. Every feather seemed to shake beneath his touch, curling up towards his hand. How could have been so violent towards them? So vicious as to make them bleed and cause Damon to cry out in pain? Klaus' hand followed the pattern of his feathers, pulling back abruptly when his hand become wet with blood. His stomach rolled with self-disgust. Although Damon's neck had healed enough to prevent bleeding, his wings still had the wounds from Klaus' hands.

He removed his hand from Damon's wings and raised his wrist to his mouth. He wouldn't feed last time, but he would force Damon to take his blood if it was necessary. The scent of his own blood helped to mask Damon's and he felt his fangs retract and the veins around his eyes disappear. Out of his eye corner, he saw Damon's nose twitch at the new smell.

Klaus leaned over Damon's body, careful not to put any weight on him, and gently opened Damon's mouth. His lips were smooth against Klaus' touch and easily opened against the slight pressure of his hand. Klaus swallowed thickly. Damon's lips were soft and smooth, shapely yet still masculine. He found himself leaning forward, only to pull back abruptly when he realized what was happening. In his mind he berated himself for his slip up. Klaus took a few calming breaths and rested his bleeding wrist to Damon's mouth.

The effect was immediate. Damon's eyes sprang open in shock and horror. His hands came to encircle Klaus' arm as he desperately tried to push him away. Teeth scraped over Klaus' skin, dong nothing to harm him. He pressed his wrist harder to Damon's mouth. The Angel continued to struggled against him, his once peaceful wings coming up like a protective shield.

"Damon, shhh," Klaus soothed gently, his other hand coming to rest in Damon's hair. But instead Damon fought harder, his nails causing delicate scratches which healed instantly. "You're going to be OK, Damon. Just a sip that's all." Still Damon struggled.

The hand in Damon's hair moved down to his wings, combing over them gently in an effort to get Damon to relax. The response he got wasn't one he expected. The Angel gasped beneath him, his eyes widening in surprise and his mouth opening a little. Klaus felt blood trickle into Damon's mouth. Klaus felt Damon's entire body immediately relax and become soft on the bed. The hands that had been grasping at his arm become softer and gentle, now seeming to be holding Klaus' wrist to his mouth. Beneath him, Damon's body arched into the hand on his wings, his eyes wide with shock and pleasure. His breathing was deep and quick and he swallowed reflexively.

Klaus took his healing wrist from Damon's mouth, noting the blood that was now smeared over his lips. Once again he ran his hand through Damon's wings, thankful to see that the wounds had healed. He sat back and covered Damon's body with the remaining blankets. He checked the wound on Damon's neck, satisfied to see that it had now fully healed though Damon still had a sickly look.

Damon's bottom lip trembled and he wiped furiously at the blood on his lips with a shaking hand. His wings curled around him, hiding everything but his face from Klaus. Tears threatened to spill over and Damon looked away, hiding his face among the blankets. "Why?" His voice shook and Klaus heard him sob. "I told you not to. I told you I didn't want it!"

"You'd have died without it," Klaus said calmly, for once not regretting any decision he'd made with Damon.

Damon rolled away from him, turning his back to Klaus. It allowed him to see the scars where Damon's wings were. "You should have let me die," Damon whispered as Klaus left the basement.

**Wake Me Up**

Every time Klaus visited the basement with food, Damon wouldn't look at him.

The first time Klaus had arrived with food and water, Damon had turned his back to him, refusing to eat or even drink in his presence. Klaus had stayed there for an hour, watching the fluttering of Damon's wings and the rise and fall of his chest before leaving and closing the door behind him. Each day was the same.

But with every visit Klaus could see Damon becoming more and more ill. Even though his blood had cured Damon's physical injuries, it had done nothing to cure the illness which made his skin gaunt and his body shake as if cold. Believing the Angel to be cold, Klaus had brought clothes down to the basement but these had been left untouched - Damon preferring to curl up beneath the blankets. When Klaus had attempted conversation, Damon had merely shrugged in response to everything he said. Other than that, the Angel showed no reaction to Klaus.

In frustration, Klaus had demanded answers. "Is this what it's going to be like?" Klaus asked, his voice rising with every word. "You're going to let yourself become ill? By refusing food and water?" he'd laughed then, a merciless laugh which reminded him all too well of his father.

In reply, Damon had calmly said; "Or are you going to force me again?" Those chilling words, said with such lack of emotion and self-preservation, haunted Klaus.

Those were the last words Damon had spoken to Klaus.

The next day, Klaus visited with food like he had done all the previous times. This time, the food cluttered to the floor with a bang.

Damon lay on the bed, his body covered in sweat. The blankets were pushed down to his groin, exposing a chest covered in trickling droplets of sweat. His skin was yellow and his hair was stuck to his face with sweat. In the bed he tossed and turned, his wings becoming tangled in the blankets. Small gasps left his parted lips as his chest rose and fell quickly as he fought for breath. Damon's wings were fading, their colour now grey instead of the rich midnight that Klaus had become accustomed to. On the stone floor, feathers surrounded the bed, their edges ruffled and barely resembling the delicate nature that Klaus had seen only weeks before.

"Damon?" Klaus whispered, stepping over the dropped food and quickly making his way over to the Angel. He placed his hand on Damon's bared chest and immediately withdrew his hand at the heat he felt. "Damon?" he said again as he pressed his cool hands to Damon's forehead.

Blue eyes opened blearily but didn't focus on anything, instead just rolling and not focusing on anything before he shut his eyes again.

Klaus pushed the blankets from Damon's body and gently untangled them from his wings, mouth falling open with shock as more feathers fell from Damon's wings. Removing his own shirt, Klaus pulled Damon towards him so they were chest to chest. He thought he heard Damon sigh at the cold temperature of his chest. Klaus felt Damon nuzzle into his chest and he felt his heart clench. If he hadn't taken him... He thought with desperation as he held the Angel closer to his cold body.

He didn't understand what could have caused this. If it were his blood, then this effect would have been immediate. But it was something Klaus' blood couldn't cure. Once more, a feeling of unworthiness washed through him. He had brought Damon to the manor to protect him and all he had done was abuse him and force him into blood acts which should only be done between vampires. Damon had become the target of his anger and in return he had become wounded and Klaus didn't know how to care for him...

Feelings he had never felt before began to infiltrate his heart. Every time he thought of Damon he would have a warm feeling in his chest, one akin to happiness but so much more than that. When he looked at him he saw nothing but beauty, something that didn't belong on this earth and something that Klaus felt he would certainly destroy. When sleeping, he found himself dreaming of other things: Damon's lips, his body and even basic things like having a conversation with him that didn't end in blood shed or tears. His arms tightened around the Angel's body. Like he had said, he couldn't let him go. It would be physically impossible now.

Thoughts of what he had read in the book came to mind once more. The dreams. The human had written about the dreams he had had of his Angel, and how they had led him to find her and after that, the dreams of what they could have together. That was how they had known they had been mates. When Damon had heard of his dreams, he had reacted in such a violent manner, refusing to answer Klaus' questions and denying all knowledge of the dreams. And now, Klaus was having those dreams, those dreams about wanting more and needing more...only for Damon to fall ill and weak, unable to voice his own knowledge about the subject.

Everything that Klaus was doing was wrong. The things he had done so far had made everything worse and Damon was far from comfortable around him. He held Damon closer to him, revelling in the way the Angel nuzzled into his chest. If only he was like this when conscious and not delirious.

Klaus didn't understand what could have caused Damon to fall so ill. And he doubted anyone else would either. Unless...

He pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed the appropriate number. "Elijah, how fast can you get to Mystic Falls?"


	4. Chapter 3

Klaus hadn't explained anything over the phone. Instead he had hung up once Elijah had agreed.

In his arms, Damon continued to shake. Despite the coolness of Klaus' body his temperature was increasing and Klaus grew worried as more feathers began to fall from his wings. While he had been on the phone, Damon had woken slightly, his eyes focusing on Klaus' face for a fraction of a second before he closed his eyes once more. He hadn't reacted when he'd seen Klaus so close. Any reaction, even one of terror, would be preferable to this incoherent state.

He reluctantly moved from the bed, a slight burst of happiness forming when he saw Damon unconsciously reaching for him. Damon needed to feed. Before his illness, the Angel had barely eaten anything and refused to even look at the food in Klaus' presence.

Klaus returned to the basement with water and yogurt. In the short time Klaus had been away, Damon had rolled onto his side and he could clearly see the sweat droplets rolling over his skin. His breathing was laboured and it only calmed and became regular as Klaus neared him. At that, Klaus smirked to himself. When Damon was awake he might pretend to hate him but for now, his body needed him. Could there be some hope?

He sat behind Damon, moving the Angel gently until Damon's back was to his chest. Damon's skin felt damp on Klaus' naked chest and his smirk grew as he felt Damon shiver against him and lean into his touch. Klaus was careful not to touch Damon's sensitive wings, the result of last time rushing through his mind. They clearly created orgastic feelings within Damon's body... He could just imagine how Damon would react, given the situation, to the stimulation of his wings. Klaus could almost hear the cries that Damon would release...

He stopped his thoughts abruptly. He couldn't think like that. If he did and Damon didn't want him... Instead he raised some of the yogurt to Damon's lips, parting them slightly to let the cool food slip between them. Klaus raised his fingers to massage his throat so he could force Damon to swallow. At the action, Damon's eyes fluttered open and for the first time in days, his eyes focused on Klaus face.

Damon turned his face away from the spoon of yogurt and instead tucked his head into Klaus' chest. As he did, he attempted to spit the yogurt out.

"No," Klaus said softly but firmly. Using a finger, he cleaned the yogurt from Damon's chin. "You've got to eat it."

In response, Damon closed his eyes and Klaus thought he had lost him to the fever once more. Instead Damon opened them a few moments later and swallowed thickly before speaking. "What is it?" The words were raspy and appeared painful to say so Klaus reached for the glass of water and raised it to Damon's lips. Thankfully he accepted the water and only moved his head away when he'd had enough.

"Yogurt."

"What type?" Damon's voice sounded smoother now and his eyes were lighter.

"Strawberry," Klaus replied slightly confused. He looked at the light pink food on the spoon, wondering if he'd made a mistake with the flavour.

"Good." Damon reached for Klaus' hand and put the finger that was covered in yogurt into his mouth. Klaus could feel his tongue on his finger, flicking over the surface to make sure that every tiny bit was off. Klaus watched him, seeing the obvious pleasure the food was giving Damon and he doubted the Angel knew how erotic the act looked. He looked away, refusing to watch the innocent being any longer. But that was worse. Images flooded Klaus' mind so instead he looked back to Damon who had now moved away and was leaning back against Klaus' chest once more. "Why are you looking at me like that?" Damon cocked his head to one side, curiosity evident in his voice.

Innocent. Klaus swallowed thickly. Over the centuries he had yet to meet any supernatural beings with no experience. Being on the earth for decades wore thin... It was a rarity to find one as pure as Damon. "Like what?" Klaus replied and he saw Damon's cheeks blush red.

Damon tried to hide his face and Klaus let him, needing a break from those blue eyes. "Like you want to eat me."

Klaus grimaced at his choice of words, memories of the attack coming to the forefront of his mind. "Hasn't anyone ever looked at you like that?"

The Angel shrugged, obviously self-conscious. "Not really. Or I haven't noticed. We don't normally notice or pay any attention unless it's from our ma-". Damon cut off abruptly and his cheeks flushed even redder at his mistake. He tried to move away from Klaus but his illness made him even weaker than normal. With no effort, Klaus kept him held to his chest. "Why am I even talking to you?" Damon asked to himself. He sounded shocked at the notion. "I should hate you...but I don't. I don't know why..." His ramblings trailed off and Klaus chuckled lightly.

"Why should you hate me?" Klaus took the opportunity with grasping hands. If the only time Damon would willingly speak to him was when he was ill, then Klaus would take it. Maybe the illness made Damon relax somewhat, and become careless with the things he was saying?

"Because you're a vampire," Damon said confidently as if his explanation was the most obvious thing in the world. "You proved earlier that you want to eat me, and you looked at me the same way not a few moments ago." Klaus' eyes widened a fraction in shock as he realized just how little Damon knew. The way he looked at him hadn't been in blood lust... His arms subconsciously tightened around Damon at yet another sign of his innocence.

Damon allowed Klaus to feed him more of the yogurt. This time from a spoon, and not from his fingers. Klaus didn't know whether to feel annoyed at that or relieved.

Deciding it was best to not tell Damon about his Hybrid status - another battle of wills, tears and arguments was to be avoided at all costs - he continued with their conversation. "Why would you hate me because of that?"

"Because it's not natural," Damon said as he took more yogurt from the spoon.

"Says the man with the wings sprouting from his back," Klaus stated before he could stop the words.

In his arms, Damon tensed and pushed the yogurt away from him. When Klaus offered it to him he shook his head and turned onto his side despite only finishing half of the bowl. "Damon?" Klaus questioned. He let the Angel move away from him, noting how his wings twitched slightly.

"Just go," Damon whispered and his voice shook with tears. Once more his wings curled around him. Effectively dismissing Klaus.

Klaus stood to leave and took one last look at Damon before he shut the door behind him.

He made his way to the library, cursing his own mouth for his stupid words. Lost in his own mind, he barely noticed Elijah sitting in the arm chair by the fire, a glass of scotch in one hand.

"So you finally decide to greet your brother," Elijah said calmly as he twisted a piece of broken glass in his hand. Klaus vaguely remembered throwing it against the wall only days ago.

Klaus looked towards him as he poured himself a drink before taking the seat opposite the other vampire. "Elijah," he said calmly.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, brother?" He took a sip from the glass while studying his brother's face intently. Klaus' hazel eyes were dull and skin seemed paler than usual. All signs of no sleep and a lack of feeding. "You don't look so well," Elijah added quietly. "Are you feeding?"

"Nothing tastes the same," Klaus said. It was the first time he'd acknowledged that he had a problem. Before he had refused to admit it, even to himself. Ever since the first taste of Damon's blood, nothing else had matched with it. As time had passed, his body had come to reject all types of blood. He had even resorted to animal blood and that had had the same effect. "His blood, it's so pure...nothing can describe it."

"I guess 'he' is the reason you called?" Elijah saw the spark of hope in his brother's eyes and knew instantly that this person was the cause. Even if Klaus should try to lie or deceit him like so many times in the past.

His brother nodded in reply. "He's ill. I don't know why." Elijah noticed the way Klaus schooled his features - the slight hardening in his eyes gave him away, even after centuries.

"What else happened?"

"I attacked him," Klaus admitted as he drank the remainder of his scotch. He went to get more. "I fed him my blood and it healed his physical injuries but not his illness."

Elijah leaned forward, his elbows coming to rest on his knees. "Tell me more about him," he demanded.

"He's an Angel," Klaus began. He looked to Elijah, expecting his brother to scoff at the notion and deem him 'love sick' or some other variation of the term. Instead Elijah simply nodded and appeared to relax slightly. "I take it by your lack of surprise that you've met one before?"

"Only one. Back in 1854 in Mystic Falls. It was only a child though." Elijah thought back to the event. It had been years since he'd let the memories resurface. "He was about ten years of age at the time."

Klaus watched his brother silently. Another Angel in Mystic Falls? He found the coincidence to be unlikely. "What did he look like?"

"Dark hair, the darkest I have ever seen in this part of the world. And his eyes, so blue...In all my years I've never met anyone with eyes like that..." Klaus bristled at his brother's words - Damon's hair and eye colour coming to mind. Surely, Elijah couldn't have?

"His wings?"

"He didn't have them at the time. After meeting him I researched their species and found that they receive their wings and immortality at the age of their maturity - 20 years of age. Which would have been in 1864."

Klaus thought back to the scars on Damon's back. They were long an thin, their edges jagged and still pink as if fresh. Damon's scars must never heal correctly, which would allow him to hide his wings with the minimum of discomfort... "How did you know he was an Angel then?"

"Tears of blood. I didn't know at the time but after years of research I found that they were the only species able to do so." Elijah sighed loudly, a sound Klaus had hardly heard from his brother. He saw Elijah's eyes glaze over and he knew his brother was searching through centuries of memories to find the one he was looking for. "His father had beaten him. His body was covered with lacerations and bruises. I found him in the forest - just past Wickery Bridge."

Chills ran down the length of Klaus' spine. It had been a long time since he had felt anything like them. "It's not a coincidence..." He murmured, temporarily forgetting about Elijah. "He's here for a reason." Klaus stood, placing his glass on the side table. "I think there's someone you need to meet."

**Wake Me Up**

"It's him," Elijah said with disbelief. He barely noticed the sickly pallor to Damon's skin or the feathers on the floor. All he could focus on was the black hair and the cerulean blue eyes that looked around the basement without focusing on anything. "Its really him..." He walked towards the Angel, ignoring the glare that Klaus gave him. Elijah reached a hand out and carded it slowly through Damon's sweat drenched hair.

When Elijah touched Damon's hair, Klaus barely restrained the jealously that threatened to boil over. He took a step forward, intending to tell Elijah not to touch the Angel when Damon leaned into his brother's touch, seeking the coldness of his skin in the same way he had Klaus'. "Why is he ill?"

Elijah, thankfully, moved away from Damon. "He's a creature of nature," he started. "And you've kept him sealed in a tomb, Klaus." Elijah looked at him with hard eyes, his tone unforgiving. "Why? He needs to be out in the open, in the manor grounds at the very least!" Elijah looked back to Damon to see his wings trembling and his body shaking.

"When I found him, I needed him," Klaus said with such conviction that Elijah knew he couldn't be faking it. "There was a pull guiding me to him, for a month I had a dream about him in the forest...just lying there motionless. I couldn't let him go, not until I knew more about him."

Both brothers sat down on the sand bags and Elijah ran a hand over his forehead is exasperation. "And so you killed him with your curiosity."

Klaus snarled at his brother, his fangs flashing. Elijah regarded him calmly. "Then do something about it," Klaus growled lowly. "He's still alive, cure him!"

In response, Elijah stood and walked over to Damon and picked him up. He was uncaring about the Angel's wings and Klaus smirked in relief that Damon hadn't responded to the touch. Instead, Damon's wings appeared to shy away from Elijah's touch. As he followed his brother, Klaus collected the unworn clothing he had brought for Damon days ago. Waking with dignity was the least thing Klaus could do for Damon.

Elijah had taken Damon out to the manor grounds. As Klaus followed them, he watched as Damon began to wake in his brother's arms. The Angel struggled slightly and Klaus frowned in concern. If he woke panicked with Elijah would he hate them both? But then, as quickly as he had awoke, Damon became limp in Elijah's arms once more. They walked further away from the manor, into the wilder, less tidy sections of the grounds. Elijah placed Damon on the floor beside a small clump of trees.

Klaus looked at Elijah as the other vampire moved away from Damon, sensing his brother's possessive nature. He turned away as Klaus pulled the blanket back and began to dress Damon.

"So what now?" Klaus asked as he took a seat on the grass beside Damon. "What happens?"

"We wait," Elijah murmured as he took a seat a safe distance from Klaus. If those dreams had led Klaus to Damon, then it meant only one thing... And he couldn't help but be a little envious. If Klaus knew of this then he would become possessive of Damon, harming anything that stood between their bond. It had already showed When Klaus had glared at him for touching Damon's hair and the deathly look he had been given just moments ago. "What did you say to him?"

Klaus looked away from Damon to meet Elijah's eyes. "I've said a lot of things. Be more specific, brother."

"He had tears on his face. Fresh ones."

At the reminder of his earlier comment to Damon, Klaus swallowed.

"What did you say to him?" Repeated Elijah. He looked over to Damon and saw that he was motionless.

He looked away from Elijah and saw the red tears that stained Damon's cheeks. "I told him he wasn't natural. A freak in other words."

Elijah expelled a sharp breath in exasperation and shook his head sadly. "No wonder," he whispered to himself. "Don't you understand anything about them? Or him for that matter?" Elijah paused for a moment, wondering where to start.

"Angels are born into human families from 'normal' human parents. There's no genetics involved like there is for witches and werewolves. So when an Angel is born, they're obviously different. Centuries ago, and even in some countries today, they were treated like freaks, beaten by their families for being different. Having an abnormality in the family was considered a disgrace, a sign from God that the family weren't pure... You remember how father treated you?" Elijah paused for a moment, allowing Klaus' memories of their childhood resurface. "Damon would have been treated like that every day, the child with the blood tears. And you called him that. His own mate, you called him a freak."

Klaus' head snapped up to look at Elijah. "I'm his?"

"Mate. And what you said would have seemed like a rejection to him."

He shook his head in disbelief. "Damon hates me; he would never look at me like that."

"How do you explain the dreams?" Elijah asked.

Tremors rolled through Klaus' body. He couldn't believe it. Damon was his mate. He reached a hand out to stroke his face, and traced the tears that he found there. With a tender hand he wiped them away. "I'm so sorry," he murmured and he brushed Damon's hair from his eyes. Under the touch of his hand, Damon moved towards him, seeking the coolness that his body provided. "What if he doesn't survive?"


End file.
